


Trial and Error

by technicolortidepods



Series: Experiments in Intimacy [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, Mild Painplay, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-08-19 05:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16527878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technicolortidepods/pseuds/technicolortidepods
Summary: It was freezing outside, and all Beauregard really wanted was to get warm. She was totally, a hundred percent, not responsible for whatever things started to heat up after that.





	1. trial...

_Shit_ , Beauregard thought, wrapping the covers of her bedroll tighter around herself as a frigid burst of wind found its way inside the tent. _When the fuck did it get this cold?_

Since the party had began their gradual, northward trek back up from the southern region of the Empire, Beau had noticed a particularly nasty change in the weather. Nights that were once practically balmy became unexpectedly brisk, and Beau found herself having to break out more and more layers just to fall asleep comfortably. She was currently clad in only a breast band and simple linen pants, already regretting her decision to wash the rest of her clothing in that stupidly convenient nearby stream.

Across the tent, Jester was sleeping happily, seemingly unaffected by same harsh gales that had Beau’s teeth chattering with every gust. Beau pulled the sheets closer and shot a sour look in her direction.

 _Stupid infernal blood_ , she scoffed to herself. _A higher internal body temperature would totally come in handy right about now._

Beau briefly considered crawling into bed next to Jester to reap some of the benefits of her tiefling heritage, but thought better of it. She had shared a bed with Jester before and the whole ordeal was decidedly less delightful than she had hoped. The sleep talking and snoring Beau could put up with, but the constant kicking she could easily live without.

Besides, Yasha would be back from watch soon.

Over the past few weeks, Yasha had gotten more comfortable with displays of casual affection in Beau’s direction, so long as public attention wasn’t directed towards them. She supposed that basically sharing a bed with her in front of Jester, so long as they were safely ensconced from curious eyes in their own little tent, fit whatever criteria Yasha had laid out. What even was privacy, anyway, nowadays?

The next thirty minutes were spent in frigid boredom, Beau shaking her extremities every so often as not to lose feeling, while replaying the latest chapter of _The Courting of the Crick_ over and over in her head to distract from the cold. She had to sift through loads of historical bullshit before she got to a particular kinky section where the sexy drow assassin had visited General Theo in his quarters in nothing but a silken robe and then proceeded to do unspeakable things to him with a tin of red hot, melting candle wax. Though Beau could of done without the apt description of Theo’s “painfully erect, weeping member,” the passage did give her a couple good ideas. She made a mental note to run them by Yasha later.

Beau was already doing the math to see if she had enough coin to afford one of those fine leather riding crops that she could have sworn she saw hanging from Ophelia Mardun’s belt that one time when the corner of the tent lifted and a crouching Yasha made her way inside.

“Hey,” Beau greeted her quietly. “Watch was pretty boring, I guess.”

Yasha turned toward the sound of her voice in surprise. “Beau,” she said, a little taken aback. “I thought you would be sleeping. It’s late.”

“Yeah, I tried, it’s too frickin’ cold out there.” Beau replied, propping herself up on her elbows to watch Yasha disrobe in the low light. She watched with rapt attention as Yasha changed into a simple gray tunic and removed some of the leather and fur bracers that made up her armor. Since the Iron Shepards, Yasha had refused to go to sleep unless adorned in her full makeshift armor set, with her Magician’s Judge not inches away from her ready grasp.

That was, until recently.

“Maybe if you had a few more layers on, you would be more comfortable.” Yasha said with a smile in her voice, motioning at Beau’s bare upper body with her chin as she began to unbraid her hair.

Beau chuckled softly. “You complaining?” She teased.

Yasha gave a small laugh in return. “Not at the moment, no.” she responded, continuing to comb through her wild mane of hair. “But when you get hypothermia and freeze to death, I think I would be very upset if I hadn’t at least tried to warn you.”

“Wanna come over here and warm me up?” Beau said suggestively, quirking an eyebrow. “Be a shame if I froze to death and you didn’t do something about it.” She figured it would probably be a more effective line if her whole body wasn’t shaking as she said it.

Yasha sighed playfully, giving her hair a final shake before crawling over to Beau and kissing her on the mouth. “I would never forgive myself.” She pulled away before things got too heated, much to Beau’s disappointment, and tugged on the sheets of the bedroll. “May I join you?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, ‘course you can.” Beau replied, unraveling the covers just enough for Yasha to slither inside. Immediately, everything was about ten times warmer. Even after spending two hours outside in the bitter cold, Yasha’s thick, muscular body still trapped heat better than Beau could ever hope to. The two were spooning, Beau comfortably nestled in Yasha’s warm embrace, Yasha tactfully rubbing her hands over Beau’s exposed skin in an effort to transfer some heat.

“Beau, you’re freezing.” Yasha hummed disapprovingly against the back of Beau head.

“Yeah, I t-told you.” Beau whispered back. She was still shivering, but less so because of the cold now.

Yasha brought her hands to Beau’s mouth. “Blow,” she commanded, and Beau did as much, puffing warm air into Yasha’s cupped hands, watching and she rubbed them together briefly and resumed the thorough motions across her body.

Was it wrong for Beau to get a little turned on by the whole thing? Maybe. But she was only human after all, forgive her if Yasha’s quite literally magical hands got her a little excited.

Eventually, as the chill of the air seemed to melt away, Yasha’s touches became less deliberate and more lazy, as if she had stopped trying to heat Beau back up and her hands were just drifting over her body of their own accord.

“There,” Yasha said drowsily, with the most adorable little yawn. “You should be nice and warm now.”

“Mm, yeah, thanks.” Beau hummed back quietly, trying not to get distracted the hair at the back of her neck stood on end everytime Yasha’s fingers brushed over the length of an old, healing scar. Yasha wasn’t wrong-- Beau barely noticed the persistent gusts of wind that would shake their tent every now and again.

But it wasn’t very long before Beau felt a different kind of warmth spread through her body and settle at the pit of her stomach and between her legs. Yasha’s hands just felt so good against her shivering body. Her nerve endings were already at attention due to the bitter cold. With the addition of big, calloused hands stroking absently up and down the planes of her abdomen, Beau was practically experiencing sensory overload.

She made a little sound, somewhere between a hum of approval and a stifled moan, just to see if Yasha was paying attention.

 _Gods, does she have any idea what she’s doing to me_?

As far as Beau could tell, Yasha made no response. She continued to trail her fingers lazily along Beau’s abs, tracing the lean muscle with feather light touches. Beau could feel the even repetitions of Yasha’s warm breath against the back of her neck and the pleasantly heavy weight of Yasha’s thigh draped over her leg. The woman was so still, if Beau didn’t know any better she would think she was asleep.

Beau figured she should probably be embarrassed about how horny she got from such a simple, comforting touch. But as soon as Yasha’s blunt nails grazed the patch of skin below her navel, she couldn’t bring herself to care. Involuntarily, her body stiffened and her hips bucked forward and back again, bumping against Yasha’s front. Beau heard a soft yelp of surprise escape the other woman’s lips in response.

“A-ah, sorry,” Yasha breathed into her neck. “That was an accident.”

“No, no, yeah, don’t worry about it.” Beau whispered back, her voice a little more strained than usual. She felt a small surge of disappointment when Yasha’s hand stop its ministrations, coming to rest on her midsection, gently yet firmly holding her close. However, It did nothing to halt the persistent tingling at the juncture of her thighs. Beau knew that if she could even the slightest bit of contact from Yasha where she needed it most-- the pad of a thumb against her clit, for instance, or a muscular thigh to rut against-- she would totally be set.

But Yasha gave her no indication that she was even aware of Beau’s condition. She just snuggled in closer, pulling the sheets tighter around the two of them. The way she nuzzled her nose into the crook of Beau’s neck would be heart-meltingly adorable to her if she wasn’t so damn turned on.

 _Just rub one out yourself_ , Beau thought, as a particularly nasty gust of wind rattled the tent. Behind her, she felt Yasha give a little shiver that sent shockwaves to her mounting pit of arousal and intertwined their legs even further. She bit her lip to swallow the sound of a strangled whimper. _Yasha’s not gonna care, this would be, like, the least pathetic thing she’s seen you do when you’re horny._ Beau told herself. She slowly brought her hand down to her waistband, wriggling her hips a little to find a suitable angle. _Plus, the thought of Yasha catching you getting yourself off while you’re in bed with her is kinda hot as fuck._

Beau shifted her hips back against the solid body behind her to give herself a little more room to work, when suddenly she felt the grip on her abdomen tighten. She heard an impossibly soft moan in her ear and felt Yasha’s form tense against her back.

“Ngh…”

For a moment, Beau lay there in confusion, fingers barely slipping under the fabric of her trousers before it dawned on her. The way their bodies’ were positioned, every wiggle of her backside or twist of her hips was brushing right up against Yasha’s core. Everytime Beau moved the lower half of her body, she was basically grinding her ass right up against the juncture between Yasha’s legs. And judging by the way Yasha had reacted, she could feel every movement.

Beau couldn’t help but smile wickedly to herself. There was nothing wrong with playing a little dirty. Especially now that she knew how bad they both needed it.

She arched her back with a soft sigh, pressing her backside even closer to Yasha’s front. Beau had spent enough time getting acquainted with Yasha physically to know a thing or two about what got her hot and bothered. A hand on her tits, a little bit of teeth scraping her collarbone, a slow, gentle rut; all of it did just the trick to get the usually stoic and unreadable woman all needy and worked up. Now armed with the knowledge of how much Yasha liked a little bit of teasing and the feel of friction through a couple layers of fabric, Beau was fairly certain she had this in the bag.

After a couple more tantalizing twists of her hips, Beau felt Yasha’s nails bite into her abdomen, keeping her still. She couldn’t hold back the pleased exhale of breath.  

“Beau,” Yasha murmured, a little sternly.

“Hm?”

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” Beau replied, feigning innocence. “I’m just getting comfortable.” She twisted around in Yasha’s embrace a little to look right at her. Even in the relative darkness, Beau was close enough to recognize the slightest ruddy tinge to her cheeks. “Why, Yash, is everything okay?” For good measure, Beau began to stroke little patterns on the small of her back, which would have been rather soothing had it not been in such an erogenous area for Yasha.

Beau did her best not to look too pleased with herself when she saw Yasha flush darker and look away, breaking eye contact.

“I… ah…” She began, closing her eyes tight, trying her best not to get distracted. “Everything’s… everything’s fine, Beau. Just... just get back to sleep.”

And _fuck_ , there was something about Yasha struggling to maintain composure that was really doing it for Beau. She formulated a new plan in her head. Getting herself off was no longer a priority. Getting Yasha so worked up that she completely snapped and took Beau right there, in the same tent as their sleeping friend and only a few yards away from those keeping watch? Beau could feel herself get wet just at the thought.

With a hint of reluctance, Beau turned herself back around, making her best estimate of where Yasha’s clit lay hidden beneath her trousers, and wriggled her ass against it just so. Yasha made no noise this time, but Beau didn’t miss the way her hips jumped up at the contact or the sudden shiver that ran through her body. They resumed their previous position, Yasha spooning Beau, their bodies pressed flush against each other. However, this time, Yasha’s arm was not cradling Beau as closely as before. Her hand was resting tentatively on Beau’s hipbone, as if afraid to get and closer.

“C’mere,” Beau whispered, grabbing Yasha’s hand and wrapping it around herself more completely. She placed it where it had been before: right below her navel and dangerously grazing the fabric of her waistband. Beau felt Yasha gasp softly, her breath tickling the back of her neck, but not moving her hand. She stayed completely still, a perfect marble statue.

“Want you closer,” Beau continued, twisting around their legs, intentionally bucking her hips back into Yasha’s in the process. She could feel Yasha’s body tremble around her and she couldn’t help but do the same. “S’cold out there.”

Yasha just nodded against her. “I… I got you.” She said, and Beau could recognize the rough edge to her voice. Gods, that low, raspy tone went straight to the pounding in her clit. She had heard that murmur turn to a hungry growl enough times to know it was a sure sign Yasha was losing her resolve. How much more provoking was it gonna take before she finally pushed her over the edge? Beau’s mind was racing with all the dirty, demeaning things she was silently begging Yasha to do to her.

 _I want you to fuck me_ , she thought, rubbing her thighs together for any semblance of friction. “ _I want you inside me, I want you to fuck me good and rough with those fingers until I scream and wake up the entire camp. I want you to bend me over and use me and spank me and show everyone what a bad girl I am. I want it so bad, Yasha, please._

Beau could hear Yasha breathing heavily in her ear now, and could feel the way her chest rattled against her back with every exhale. Even though her attempts at stirring up friction where she needed it most brought no self- gratification, Beau could feel Yasha subtly rocking her hips to meet the movement, ever so slightly grinding against Beau’s ass in search of the same thing.

 _Almost there_.

Throwing restraint to the wind, Beau took Yasha’s hand that had been laying mere inches above her aching core, and slowly dragged it under the fabric. Past her waistband, past her small clothes, until she was guiding the hand to play with a patch of dark, neatly trimmed curls.

Yasha made the sweetest little moan right there, buried in the crook of Beau’s neck, and Beau could have either came instantaneously or fallen in love with her right on the spot.

But then, to Beau's disappointment, Yasha stopped following the coaxing lead of Beau’s hand and clutched her tightly by the wrist.

“Beau,” Yasha breathed, her voice heavy with arousal. “Beau, we can’t…”

“Please, Yasha.” Beau whimpered. She barely had to play it up. Yasha’s fingers, those thick, calloused fingers that had brought her to climax so many times were so, so close to her clit. Beau had practically been gagging for it since the moment Yasha wrapped her arms around her. She began to buck her hips, trying to bring Yasha’s hand down with it to no avail. “I need you inside me right now, Yash, please.”

Yasha let out a strangled noise from deep in her throat. “But Jester--”

“She’s sleeping, she won’t hear a thing.” Beau replied, cutting her off. With a few twists of her hand, she was able to switch positions, now grappling Yasha’s wrist, dragging her hand down to rest over her swollen bundle of nerves. “C’mon, you gotta help me out here, I’m begging you.” Beau knew how wrecked and pathetic she must sound right about now, but couldn’t find the pride in her to care. She arched her back once more, pressing herself right up against Yasha’s front for effect, eliciting a little whimper. “And I kinda get the sense you need this too.”

After a pregnant pause, Yasha finally gave in, whispering somewhat defeatedly what Beau had been longing to hear against her skin.

“... How do you want me?”

Beau couldn’t help but give out a tiny, broken cry at the sound of it. “I-I want you to take me, Yasha.” She tried to swallow, but her mouth was bone dry. “I want it rough, I want it to hurt. Gods, I need you so bad.”

Beau could feel Yasha pressing the softest of kisses along her neck. “I never want to hurt you,  Beau.” She whispered, almost inaudibly. “But I’ll try. I’ll try for you if that’s what you want.”

In her twenty three years, Beau had no idea what truly being in love with someone felt like, but that, that felt pretty damn close.

She simply nodded in return. Words weren't really coming to her at the moment.

“Do you… do you want me to talk harshly to you too?”

Another nod.

“Okay. I will try. Just… just please tell me if it’s too much, Beau. I…  just tell me, okay? Can you do that?”

Another nod.

“Please, Beau,” Yasha’s voice was shaky. “I want to hear you say it.”

“...I’ll tell you.” Beau replied around the lump in her throat. “I promise. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

“Okay,” Yasha took a deep breath. “Okay.” Slowly, she removed the hand that had been hovering over Beau’s clit and brought it up to loosen the ribbon that loosely held up her hair. “From now on, you will not make a sound. You… nod once if you understand.”

Beau nodded.

“Okay, okay, okay.” She took another deep breath, and released Beau’s hair from the messy bun she had thrown it in to sleep. “It would be… very bad of you to let everyone know about… about this. Do you understand?”

Beau nodded again.

“Good.” She began to card a hand through Beau’s hair, scratching behind the ears and at the base of her neck. Her other hand that had been above Beau’s head came down to grope at Beau’s chest over her breast band and she had to bite her lip to stifle her moans.

“Hush, you.” Yasha said softly into Beau’s ear, nibbling a little on her earlobe and kneading at her nipple with a thumb and forefinger. Her other hand trailed down Beau’s side and began tracing the line of Beau’s abdomen with a tantalizing touch. “I’ll, um, I’ll have to punish you if you won’t keep quiet.”

Hell, even her dirty talk was adorable. It made Beau’s heart swell up the tiniest bit inside her chest.

Yasha’s fingers finally dipped past her waistband, toying with the small thatch of hair between Beau’s legs. Beau couldn’t help but whine and buck against the sensation of having Yasha so frustratingly close to where she needed her.

“Please, Yasha, I--”

“Did you not hear me?”

There was a chill in Yasha’s husky voice that usually only came out in the heat of battle and Beau could feel herself get all the more wet because of it. She raked her short nails through the trimmed curls and Beau couldn’t help but whine. Across the tent, Jester rolled over in her sleep.

“You will not make a sound, remember?” Yasha hissed in her ear, pinching her nipple through her breast band, hard. “Repeat after me: I will not make a sound.”

“Yasha--”

“Say it.” Yasha growled. She brought two fingers down sharply over Beau’s clit, somewhere between a hit and a tap, and Beau saw stars. She let out a choked moan, half buried in her throat in response. “Say it or that’s all you get.”

“I… ungh… I will not make a sound.”

“No,” Yasha gave her clit another soft hit again, before pulling her hand free, reaching for the discarded hair ribbon. “No you won’t.” she murmured, shifting her position slightly to free her arms as she pulled it taught across Beau’s lips.

“Open.” She commanded, her voice barely a whisper.

Beau felt her body hum with excitement. She eagerly obeyed, biting down on the silken slip of fabric. She lifted herself sightly so Yasha could tie it tight around the back of her head with more ease.

“This… this should do the trick.” Yasha said, turning Beau’s head to face her. Her mismatched eyes were dark with lust and brimmed with the hunger and focus of an apex predator on the hunt. “I like, um, this is a good look on you, I think” She brought her hand to Beau’s cheek with an impossibly gentle touch. “Do you like this too?”

Beau bobbed her head vigorously like she’d never been as sure of anything in her life.

“Good,” Yasha replied, giving her a soft, chaste kiss on her gagged mouth. “Lay back down.”

She flipped back to her side and gave a muffled sound as Yasha fell into place behind and shoved her hand back down her pants.

“I hope you can be better behaved this time, Beau.” She mumbled against her neck, in between an infuriating combination of light kisses and bruising bites. One hand slipped back under Beau’s torso and continued the assault on her breasts while the other was in between Beau’s legs, parting her folds open. “Do you want me to touch you now?”

“M-Mmph!” Her plea of approval was stifled by the ribbon, currently drenched with saliva.

“Wrong answer.” Yasha growled, giving her cunt a little slap. There was a split second of pleasure before it stung like hell. It was definitely going to ache in the morning, but Beau was so wound up that any bit of contact had her clenching around nothing and dripping wet. “I’ll ask you again, Beau. Do you want me to touch you now?”

As much as she loved being bratty, Beau knew that this was not the time to test her lover’s patience.

Beau fought to keep herself quiet as Yasha played with her folds, parting her and rubbing soft, wet skin that wasn’t nearly sensitive enough to give her any kind of satisfaction. She nodded.

She could feel Yasha grin against her collarbone as she complied, bringing a finger down to her sopping entrance, gathering slick before finally entering slowly. Beau gasped into her gag at the feeling of it all after being neglected for so long. There was a brief, awful moment of disappointment when Yasha withdrew her finger, but she soon plunged it back inside the welcome heat.

“Hmm, you’re so wet, Beau.” Yasha purred, making a gratuitous show of dragging her finger in and out, the other woman’s arousal getting stuck to her finger in thick, viscous strands. “Is it this?” She asked, bringing two fingers down to Beau’s drenched entrance, giving her another sharp tap the elicited a muffled cry and a gush of fluid. “You like when I touch you rough like that?”

Beau nodded, her teeth clenching the ribbon tight enough to spit the fibers.

“Can I… Are you ready for more?”

Another nod.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Yasha muttered, half to herself, before she shifted the arm beneath Beauregard until she could reach between Beau’s legs with both hands. It took a little bit of maneuvering, but soon, Beau was twitching with anticipation as one hand hovered over her clit while a finger of the other was slowly thrusting inside of her.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” Yasha said breathlessly in her ear. “Just-- just give me the word, Beau, and I’ll stop, I promise.”

 _Okay_ , Beau replied, though it probably sounded more like “Nmph hmph”.

Behind her, she felt Yasha take a deep breath before the stretch of three fingers inside her tight heat became the only thing she could think about.

Look, Beau wasn’t some blushing virgin, okay? She’d taken more than a couple of fingers before and she took it like a champ. But Yasha-- Gods, just one of Yasha’s fingers was the size of two of a regular girl’s. It didn’t help that it had been a good period of time since Yasha last fucked her like this. Beau was suddenly very appreciate of the little bit of prep she had, frustrating as it was.

“Beau, you’re so tight,” Yasha groaned, continuing to thrust her fingers into Beau’s entrance, not quite bottoming out yet. She must of caught onto the way Beau’s walls trembled and tightening with every movement. “Are you sure this is okay?”

It hurt. Like a lot. Beau’s cunt stung with every intrusion and ached every time Yasha’s fingers retreated. The ribbon was so heavily saturated with her saliva that each breath was more and more of a struggle not to choke. But somewhere, through all the overwhelming sensations, Beau could feel something _good_ . She couldn’t put her finger on it, but every scrape of blunt nails against her front wall, every curl of thick fingers in just the right place, every tiny sunburst of pleasure through the pain heightened those pure, _good_ , sensations a thousandfold.

Carefully, Beau let go of the sheets that she had balled tightly in her fist and brought her hand to her mouth, dragging down the gag.

“More,” she croaked. “Please, Yasha, I need more.”

The fingers inside her stilled. “Whatever you need.” Yasha murmured back, so softly Beau could of dreamt it. “Whatever you need, just tell me and I’ll try.”

“Hit me again.” Beau’s voice was weak. “Right... right on my clit.”

Yasha buried her face in the crook Beau’s neck. “Oh, Beau,” she cried quietly, with an intonation in her voice that Beau couldn’t place.

“Please.”

After a moment of silence, Yasha held Beau’s wrist with the hand not currently occupied, guiding the makeshift gag back in her mouth.

“Okay.”

And with one more shaky breath, Yasha pulled out and gave a deep thrust of her fingers into Beau’s core, the callused fingertips of her other hand making sharp contact with the swollen bundle of nerves the moment Beau was filled knuckles deep.

Beau held back a scream. Yasha gasped against her skin and hit her again.

Whether something actually changed or she just got used to the sensations, Beau didn’t know, but soon the seething, overwhelming pain gave way to something sweeter. Her dripping entrance welcomed the stretch of Yasha’s fingers and her body relished the tight feeling of being completely filled. Yasha knew the exact way to twist her fingers inside her and the most hidden, sensitive places that drove Beau wild. Her clit buzzed with every slap, thoughoully abused and overstimulated under Yasha’s hand. In between each harsh tap, Yasha used a gentle touch, taking the bud beneath her rough fingertips, rubbing and massaging her so good and soft, as if to make up for each bite of pain.

Yasha could hear the rapid intakes of breath and tiny moans of pleasure, even muffled against the ruined ribbon, cluing her into how quickly Beau’s orgasm was approaching.

“Beau,” she whispered, “I know you're getting close, I can feel it.” She slowed down the plunging of her fingers, drawing her pleasure out, resting her other hand on that familiar patch of skin below her navel. “You’re trembling, right here, do you feel that? You're getting all tight around my fingers too. Is this… something you want? For me to make you come?”

Beau nodded vigorously, her teeth gnashing and grinding against the makeshift gag. Gods, if she didn’t Yasha’s hand back on her clit soon, she would probably drop dead with waiting.

Suddenly, Yasha gave a low groan from deep in her chest, digging those blunt nails into the flesh of Beau’s lower abdomen. Beau shook even more. “You tempt me, you grind your body against mine when our friend is sleeping not a yard away.” Yasha said, her voice a dangerous husky snarl. She twisted her three fingers inside Beau like a corkscrew, rough enough to elicit a ruined, stifled cry. “Then you threaten to wake everyone up with your moans and your sounds-- Is that what you want? To be seen like this?”

 _Yes_ , Beau thought, whimpering against the strip of fabric. _Oh fuck, yes, Yasha. I want everyone to see me and know I’m yours._

“Incredible,” Yasha muttered, marveling at the way Beau’s body shuddered and twisted in protest as she removed her fingers from her drenched, shivering cunt. “And then what? You have me hit you, Beau. Right here.” She pinched the tip of Beau’s clit with arousal coated fingers, causing Beau’s entire body to arch and her throat to suddenly close up. “You don’t ask to be cared for or to be caressed. You ask, you _beg_ for me to hurt you.” Her words were sharp and hot and her breath hot in Beau’s ear. “It’s… it’s incredible.”

Yasha brought her fingers back down to Beau’s entrance, slipping just her fingertips back inside her. “Look at how wet this got you,” she continued, her voice a raspy whisper. “There’s so much… it all feels the same down here.” Beau gave a gracious moan at the feeling of Yasha lazily and shallowly pumping inside her again. “You… you must be dying to come for me, aren’t you, Beau? With me inside you like this?” She taunted, pushing her fingers a little deeper.

_Gods, I want it so bad. Wanna come with you deep inside me, Yash. Wanna come all over those fucking fingers-- oh fuck, please._

Yasha raked her nails back down Beau’s lower body, hard enough to leave marks, before coming to her clit once more. “But tell me,” she murmured, hitting her there once more, causing Beau to wince and her whole body to tense. “After how you behaved, Beau, do you really think you deserve to?”

“Nnngh.” Beau replied, shaking her head. She didn’t deserve to come. She had been a bad girl for Yasha, such a bad girl. Her walls began to shudder threateningly around Yasha’s fingers at the words.

“And you need this anyway? You need me touch you like this and speak to you like this and finish you off in front of everyone?”

“... Mm-hmph.”

Yasha gave Beau’s cunt one more slap for good measure before rubbing at her clit furiously. “Come for me, Beau.” She commanded in a rough whisper, pumping her fingers in and out of Beau’s wanting entrance with vigor, curling them inside her to brush against her front wall. “I want to feel you… I want you to let go.”

Beau had no choice but to obey. She screamed, a pathetic, ruined cry, into her ribbon as Yasha’s merciless fingers reduced her to quivering mess. Beau slumped onto her side, breathing heavily, exhaustion coursing through her alongside the waves of pleasure. Relief spread through every last vein and pore of her body. To feel nothing but release after feeling, just, so much of everything was indescribable.

She had little time to bask in the post orgasm haze, however, before Yasha withdrew her hands sharply and flipped her onto her stomach. Beau winced a little at the harsh retraction of fingers and clenched around the sensitive, now empty space. She was about to turn back to Yasha in complaint when she felt a hand tangled in her hair and roughly press her against the ground.

“Hush,” Yasha told her again, hissing. Behind her, Beau heard the rustling of fabric and felt a heavy weight atop her hips. There was a soft moan, the smallest intake of breath, and Yasha began moving above her, back and forth, her grip tightening in her hair.

A second later, Beau put two and two together.

Oh, _fuck_ , that was hot.

Yasha’s knees hugged tighter around Beau’s midsection as she continued to rut against the other woman’s clothed backside, one hand tangled in Beau’s loose hair, the other pushing between her shoulder blades keeping her from getting up. Yasha’s trousers and smallclothes had been pushed past her knees, and Beau could feel a wet patch on her pants beginning to form beneath Yasha’s arousal. She heard tiny grunts of exertion sound above her as Yasha dragged her bare clit across the thin fabric.

“A-ah… Beau…” Yasha whimpered, and Beau wished she had the ability to hold her close, or touch her the way she liked, or at the very least, speak to her.

But alas, all Beau could do was lie there as Yasha straddled her hips, grinding herself off against the firm muscle and supple flesh of her ass. She listened as Yasha’s breathy noises became higher in pitch, her words unintelligible, and felt strong thighs begin to shake as Yasha brought herself closer and closer with every buck of her hips. Beau waited as the rhythm to which Yasha rode her backside became faster and faster before faltering, and tensed when Yasha pulled her hair tighter, bringing the other hand up to her lips to muffle the broken sob when she finally came.

After a few more drags of her hips, slow and deliberate, not frantic and desperate like before, Yasha collapsed on top of Beau, her weight warm and heavy but not unwelcome.

“I’m… I’m so sorry,” Yasha breathed. “Beau, I-I… Oh, gods, Beau, I’m sorry.” She rolled off of her, chest heaving, her body still trembling.

Confused, Beau turned on her side to face her. What could Yasha possibly have to be sorry about? Maybe Beau was more than a little bit brain dead right now, but she still found Yasha's sudden shift in mood incomprehensible. She tried to ask her what was wrong but the words got caught on the ribbon still between her teeth.

“Here, here, let me,” Yasha said, muttering something Beau couldn’t understand before untying the makeshift gag from around her head and gently drawing the drenched, ruined strip of fabric from her mouth. For the first time in a while, Beau inhaled a deep, unhindered breath.

“Fuck, Yasha,” Beau replied with a satisfied sigh, a little taken aback by the raspy edge to her voice. It sounded rougher and throatier than usual after sex. “That was--”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.” Yasha cut her off and Beau could finally get a good look at her. She looked pretty much the same as she always did post orgasm. Her pale skin was coated by a thin sheen of sweat, her cheeks were flushed, the same ruddy tinge reaching her chest, and those few stubborn strands of hair still clung to her temple. But Beau could see in the way that Yasha wrapped her arms around herself protectively and refused to meet her eyes that something was wrong.

“Is everything okay?” Beau asked, brimming with concern. She reached out to try and brush the hair out of Yasha’s face, but she batted her hand away. “Yasha, I… Did I do something wrong?”

 _Of course,_ Beau thought, _Of course you had to go and fuck this up too. That’s all you know how to do, fucking shit up. And you just went and hurt the best thing you have in your fucking life right now because of it._

Beau suddenly felt very small and the space between then felt very far.

“No, no, it’s not you, Beau, it’s just…” Yasha took a breath and snuggled herself closer into the bedroll, still not making eye contact. “I don’t think I want to talk about this right now. Could we maybe just sleep, please?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, whatever you want.” Beau reassured her, pulling the sheets back around them. They were ripe with the scent of sex and sweat, but still effective in fighting the chill of the night Beau had forgotten about until now.

A few minutes went by. All was silent save the whistling of the wind and Jester’s soft snoring.

“Yasha?” Beau whispered, into the stillness around them.

No response.

“You know I… I care about you, right? Like, a lot. If something’s wrong or whatever-- You know you can talk to me about that kinda thing. I’m here for you, okay? Always.”

A few more minutes went by without anything. Beau mentally kicked herself.

_She’s gonna leave eventually, just like everyone else. And when she finally does, you’ll be left heartbroken and crying on your knees, cause you were too fucking stupid to stop yourself from falling in love with her and too much of a pussy to ever say it outloud._

After a little while longer, Beau felt a hand, big, rough skinned, and slightly clammy, give her own a little squeeze before interlacing their fingers.

“I… I know. And I care about you too.” Yasha’s low, soft voice breathed back, filling the still, empty air.  

Sleep didn’t exactly come easy that night. The night brought with it gusts of uncertainties that rattled around in Beau’s mind alongside the bare, windshook, branches of the trees. But at least now, Beau was a little more protected from the gales than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because it was getting too long, this is part one of this next installment in experiments in intimacy. part two will hopefully be posted soon


	2. ...and error

When Beauregard awoke the next morning, it was as if she hadn’t gotten any sleep at all. 

Her entire body groaned with exhaustion as she sat upright, the sheets of the bedroll pooling around her bare waist. The muscles in her thighs and calves felt tight and shaky, and her abs were sore with exertion. She rubbed the last bit of sleep from her puffy eyes and tried to massage away the lax, achy feeling in her jaw. Something, something seemed off. Beau hated getting up early as much as anyone else, but rarely did the pale morning sun leave her with such an unusual sense of dread.

It was then she noticed the empty space next to her, and remembered. 

Shit.

She should probably talk to Yasha. 

With a sigh, Beau readjusted her breast band and began to pack up her things. The sheets of the bedroll still carried with them the faint scent of sweat and arousal. She folded them up with little care, shoving them to the bottom of her pack. Memories of the night before, however, were not so easily pushed away. 

A sense of guilt began to gnaw at Beau’s stomach. Last night was a blur of wanting and impatience and just  _ feeling _ . She remembered the way Yasha’s nails raked down her abdomen and the way her teeth dragged over her shoulder blades in between bruising kisses. She remembered her own choked, heavy breaths through her gag and the near sadistic way Yasha had toyed with her clit. She remembered the delicious weight of Yasha above her, a hand tangled in her hair to keep her compliant and still, making the sweetest, most broken little moans as she rutted against her backside until she came. It was all so raw and almost bestial, and part of Beau yearned to see that possessive, unhinged side of Yasha again.  

But there was no ignoring the distraught, contrite look in her mismatched eyes or the way her voice cracked when she apologized for her pleasure. How she had refused to meet Beau’s gaze or tell her what was wrong. Even now, especially now, it filled Beau with an unwavering sense of filth and unease. 

_ You were the one who fucked this up _ , she told herself bitterly,  _ Now you have to be the one to fix it. _

She let out a long exhale of breath, threw her pack over her shoulder, and left the tent.

Outside, the morning sun glowed bright through the tree cover, bathing the leaves in golden light. Caduceus was crouched over a tin pot by the campfire, stirring what looked to be a mixture of oats and dried fruit. Jester was a lying on her stomach a few feet away, scribbling something in her sketchbook, her tail lashing lazily in the air. Beau felt another wave of guilt wash over her and silently prayed that Jester had stayed blissfully asleep the whole night. 

“Morning, Beauregard,” Caduceus greeted her, his voice as easy and soothing as ever. “Breakfast isn’t ready yet, I’m afraid. It’ll take another good couple of minutes.”

“Uh, yeah, sure, no problem.” Beau replied, “Good morning to you guys too.” She looked around the campsite, hoping to see the other members of the party. Or, if she was being honest, at least one specific member of the party.  “Where’s everyone else?”

“Nott’s out collecting some more supplies.” Caduceus told her, still stirring at the pot. “Mister Caleb is still asleep, as far as I’m aware. Can’t be sure about the others, unfortunately, my apologies.”

“Yasha told me she had to go for ‘a walk’,” Jester piped in, looking up from her sketchbook, and Beau found it hard to meet her gaze. 

_ Guess that’s what being an exhibitionist costs you, huh? _

“She went over there, near the stream where we all-- Well, not Caleb and Nott, but where all the not stinky people washed our clothes in yesterday.” Jester continued, motioning towards a path through the brush with her tail. She suddenly smiled that mischievous, toothy, Jester smile and in a sing-song voice said, “I’m pretty sure she’s taking a ba-ath.”

Beau pretended not to notice the suggestive way Jester wiggled her eyebrows. “Okay, great, thanks.” She said, anxiously heading in that direction. “If the food’s ready before I get back, don’t wait up.” 

Jester just giggled and made a series of unintelligible sounds. “Have fun, Beau.” She sing-songed over her shoulder as Beau made her way down the familiar path, through the clusters of flowers and foliage, absently kicking a pebble along the way. 

_ Please don’t be gone _ , pleaded a tiny voice in the back of her mind.  _ Please don’t leave me. _

She was being ridiculous, that she knew. Things always felt… different when Yasha left. Too many times, Beau had woken up to the buzz of static and scent of petrichor in the air and an empty, waning feeling in the pit of her stomach. Today, there was not a cloud in the sky.

But when all people have ever done is leave, assuming the worst is just another reflex reaction. That tiny voice is as finely tuned an instrument as anything else Beau has trained to do.

With a kick much too strong for something so light, the pebble under her toe was flung into the nearby greenery. The voice, along with the persistent stinging between her legs was promptly ignored. To the best of her ability, anyway.

When Beau reached the clearing Jester described, her body loosened in relief, letting go of a  tension she hadn't realized she had been holding.

There stood Yasha, completely bare, facing away from her, the water of the babbling stream reaching the middle of her calves. Beau selfishly granted herself a moment of silence just to watch. She stared in captivation as Yasha washed herself with a rag, unceremoniously scrubbing her face, under her arms, between her legs. The sunlight reflected off of the beads of water that adorned her body, her pale, scared skin glistening in the morning glow. Beau could see the back muscles underneath twitch and flex with every movement and went a little slack jawed. Gods, she was beautiful. So fucking beautiful and still here.

Stepping forward, Beau cleared her throat a little to announce her presence.

Yasha flinched at sound and turned towards her. “Beau,” she said, a little surprised, wrapping her arms around herself somewhat bashfully. “I didn’t notice you.”

“Can I join you?” Beau asked. “Just to freshen up, I promise.” She added when she noticed Yasha’s hesitation. “I just feel kinda gross.”

Yasha nodded and watched with unblinking eyes as Beau stripped down, tossing her clothes in a messy pile and wadded into the stream. Beau saw as her expression changed from curious, if a little guarded, to pained as she stepped forward. 

“What? What’s wrong?” She asked, confused. She glanced around momentarily, searching for something out of place that could stir up that kind of reaction from Yasha to no avail. Except for a few birds that chirped as they flew from tree to tree, the two of them were completely alone.

“Beau, you…” Yasha began quietly, staring down at her newly bare body, refusing to meet her eyes. “I hurt you.”

For the first time, Beau looked down at herself to where Yasha’s gaze was focused.

Oh.

Her abdomen and upper thighs were decorated with streaks of red, some that faded to white, marring her otherwise bronze complexion. Her neck and collar were covered in bruises and faint bite marks, and similar black and blue splotches were clustered around her knees. Most unsettling, however, were the thin trails of dried blood that ran from Beau’s entrance down her inner thighs, joining the collage of scratches and bruises there.

“Oh,” Beau responded, a little taken aback by the damage. “Yasha, it’s not that bad, trust me.” 

Yasha just shook her head, staring down at the water with a grave expression. “I’m so, so, sorry.” Her voice was even softer than usual and she hugged her massive arms even tighter around herself. “That was-- I never wanted to hurt you, Beau.”

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Beau said quickly, moving close enough to carefully place a hand on Yasha’s forearm. She could feel her trembling under her touch. “I’m totally fine, okay?” She reassured her, stroking back and forth in little motions with her thumb. But Yasha stayed perfectly still, as if she didn’t hear a single word from Beau’s mouth. “Yasha, is this… is this about last night?”

Yasha inhaled a deep breath, slow and shaky, and nodded once. “I’m--”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Beau cut her off gently, “Just tell me where we went wrong. If it’s something I did…” She let herself trail off, not quite sure how to finish her thought. 

_ If it’s something I did, just tell me. Just tell me what I did wrong. I’ve been doing things wrong for twenty-three years, I know how this shit goes. _

“It’s not you, it’s just… it’s complicated.” Yasha said finally. A few moments of silence went by and Beau debating speaking up again to prompt her before Yasha continued. “I never wanted to hurt you like that, Beau. Seeing what I did to you now… it feels awful. It feels  _ wrong _ .” Beau watched cautiously as Yasha slowly raised her head to meet her gaze. “But part of me… part of me liked it. A lot. And I don’t know why.”

Beau gave an inward sigh of relief and tried to keep her face neutral as a flutter of excitement stirred in her stomach. “What, uh, what did you like?” As selfish as it was, it was reassuring to know that whatever fears and misgivings Yasha had weren’t directed at her. “Like specifically, you know. I just, I want to know.”

“I… I didn’t think I would enjoy hitting you down there as much as a did.” Yasha whispered, her eyes momentarily tracing over Beau’s body and Beau couldn’t help but shiver at the memory. “You looked so pretty too, with that ribbon in your mouth. And you bled on my fingers a bit and… I guess I lost control.” Her body seemed to relax a little bit as she added: “I’d never been with anyone like that before. It just took me by surprise.”

“Wait, seriously?” Beau interrupted in disbelief. “You’ve never topped someone like that before? Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“No, no, I’ve, ah, assumed that position for partners in the past,” Yasha corrected with a small smile. “Just never that rough, you know. Never like the way you wanted me.”

“Oh.” She suddenly felt stupid for jumping to conclusions while Yasha was trying her best to be forthright about what was bothering her. Keeping her mouth shut, she let Yasha continue.

“It’s just new, is all. The talking part too. You know I don’t usually talk much during… it all. That was the first time I’ve ever, um, spoken like that to someone.”

Beau felt Yasha move slightly to take her hand in one of hers, still holding it against her arms. 

“Did you… did it make you uncomfortable?” Beau asked softy. “Did I?”

“I…” Yasha began carefully, searching for the right words. “It troubles me that I hurt you. And that it… excited me as much as it did. But it wasn’t you at all. You… you were perfect.”

Beau had been called a lot of things in her life, but perfect had never once been one of them. Not until Yasha.

She swallowed down emotions that threatened to form a lump in her throat. “You were perfect too, Yasha.” Beau said, reaching to hold her upper arm and staring right into her eyes, daring her to look away. “That’s what you aren’t getting; I wanted everything you gave me.”

Yasha opened her mouth, as if to protest, but Beau cut her off. 

“I like getting fucked hard like that, okay? I like when you gag me and talk down to me and all that shit.” She continued, directly and clearly so Yasha was left with no doubts about how she felt. Beau watched as Yasha’s pale cheeks blushed pink at her bluntness.

“Beau…” 

“If I didn’t like something I would have told you. You did everything totally right, I promise.” Beau went on, her voice a little softer now, but with the same intensity. “Even things I didn’t know I wanted. Gods, Yasha, when you flipped me over and fucking used me to get yourself off? I swear, if my clit hadn’t literally just been destroyed, I would have rubbed one out right under you.”

Yasha flushed a deeper shade of pink that spread to her chest at her words and briefly looked away. “It felt so good,” She mumbled, her voice almost inaudible. “Having you under me like that. I liked it very much.”

Beau couldn’t help but grin a little. There was something ridiculously appealing about how hours ago, this blushing, soft-spoken woman before her had fingered her until her cunt was literally bleeding. Fuck, what she wouldn’t give to be completely submissive again, to lie there as Yasha took her pleasure, idly waiting for her to come all over her ass. Just thinking about it was turning her on.

“You shouldn’t be ashamed or whatever about what makes you feel good.” Beau told her, pulling Yasha’s arms away from her body and holding her hands. “Like, if there’s something that makes you uncomfortable, that’s one thing, and I’ll totally respect your boundaries and whatever. But if you’re into something or like, curious about something, I don’t want you to deny yourself that.” She interlaced their fingers together and looked up at Yasha, giving her a reassuring smile. “Especially if it’s something that I’m, like, more than okay with.”

“Okay,” Yasha whispered in reply. An expression Beau couldn’t quite place was etched into every line and sharp angle of her face. Her eyes were brimming with a quiet adoration, so gracious and gentle that if Beau was the tiniest bit more masochistic, she could mistake for love.

But there was something almost unfulfilled there too. As if something behind those ocean and violet eyes was found wanting.

“So, we’re good?” Beau prompted, desperately trying to read Yasha’s face for any sign of, well, anything. “You’re not upset about last night anymore, or whatever?”

“You gave me a lot of things to think about.” Yasha said simply, shaking her head. She let go of one of Beau’s hands to fiddle with a strand of her sleep mussed, dark brown hair. “Thank you.”

“Sure, sure, anytime.” Beau responded, a little at a loss. She just watched that small, ghost of a smile return to Yasha’s lips as she continued to toy with her hair. “Anything else I can do to make you feel better?”

Yasha paused her ministrations. “Would you… would it be alright if I helped you bathe?” She asked cautiously, her voice full of hesitation. “I… I know it sounds silly but--”

“Please.” Beau cut her off before she could say anymore. “I mean, I’d have to be an idiot to turn an opportunity like this down, right?”

Yasha laughed a little at the jest, bending down to kiss Beau quickly on her temple. “It certainly would be out of character for you.” She reached for the rag she had thrown over her shoulder and held it under the stream for a moment, collecting water. “Turn around.” Yasha commanded gently, and Beau complied, but not without the suggested raise of an eyebrow.

Yasha let out a tiny snort of mock exasperation before wringing out the rag over Beau’s head, causing the water it held to rain down on her hair.

“Holy shit, that’s cold.” Beau exclaimed with a shiver, wrapping her arms around herself instinctually. There really was nothing like a cold shower to kill the mood. 

“Don’t be a baby.” Yasha chided playfully, and Beau could hear the smile in her voice. She felt Yasha card her hands through her now wet hair, attempting to untangle the tresses.

“I’m not a baby.” Beau shot back lamely as Yasha pulled away, bracing herself for the incoming downpour. “S’ cold as fuck, that’s all.”

“Mmhm,” Yasha teased, continuing her pattern of rinse, comb, repeat. “Whatever you say.”

Eventually, the icy water became less of a shock to the system, bordering on refreshing. Beau relaxed into the feeling of Yasha’s hands through her hair, massaging her temples, and gently undoing the knots. The fact that the same big, callused hands that had definitely choked a man to death at least once could be so gentle and precise never ceased to amaze her. Yasha used the same careful attention in every tug and brush of fingers here that she showed every time she held Frumpkin or pressed a flower in her book. 

_ I love you so fucking much, you know that right?  _ Beau thought, the words raw and sincere as they solidified in her mind.  _ I love you and I have no fucking idea how to and it scares the shit out of me. _

But before her lips could betray her, Yasha spoke again.

“It’s gotten longer.”

“Huh?”

“Your hair.” Yasha clarified, bushing the sides of her undercut that had gotten significantly shaggier during the duration of their travels. “It’s gotten longer.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” Beau replied, drawing herself away from any threatening deeper thoughts. “Maybe you could, uh, give me a shave sometime?”

“I’d be honored.” Yasha said, and Beau could hear the small smile in her voice. “Once we get to a town, though. I think I would like to do a proper job.”

“Like in a bathhouse?” Beau suggested, shamelessly flirting as Yasha began to scrub over her shoulders and arms, loosely holding her to keep her stable.

“You know I do enjoy a nice bath every now and again,” Yasha countered with a little laugh, dipping the rag in water and dragging it down the length of Beau’s back. “For many reasons.”

“Mmm, sure, sure.” Beau said, trying and failing to repress a shiver as Yasha traced up and down her sides. She had gotten much smoother around Yasha since they had first met, but the other woman rendered her grasping for words more often than she cared to admit. “There’s, um, a lot to enjoy there, you know.”

“Yes,” Yasha agreed, still smiling. “Turn around.”

Beau did as much, stretching and shaking out her limbs a little. The one thing she hated more than following directions was staying still. But she would do both for Yasha in a heartbeat. 

In an almost clinical manner, Yasha scrubbed over Beau’s sternum and underneath her breasts, eyes completely focused on the task at hand. When she reached her abdomen, Yasha knelted in the water to continue comfortably and Beau tried her best to think about the least sexy things possible.

_ Deuces turning people into fungus. That old guy getting eaten by that troll in the Labenda Swaps. Caleb’s whole, like, deal he’s got going on.  _

It was only marginally successful.

She placed her hands on Yasha’s shoulders to steady slightly shaking legs and focused on literally anything else. That tree, for example. Or, that pile of rocks. Certainly not the fact that Yasha was a few stubborn inches away from going down on her or anything. Nope, nothing like that had even crossed her mind.

Beau absently noted as the movements of the rag against her hipbone came to a stop, but it was the shaky exhale of breath against her skin that caught her attention. 

“Yasha?”

She looked down and saw that same flash of pain across Yasha’s face, her stare vacant and centered on her thigh, her hand hovering. But it was only for a moment and Beau watched as Yasha shook herself and resumed her scrubbing, forcefully wiping away the lines of blood left by the night before.

“Yes?” Yasha replied with some delay, not looking up or slowing her tempo.

“I… nevermind.” Beau said with a sigh, at a loss for words. “It’s just… it’s okay, see? I know you still feel bad about all this and I know I can’t magically make it better or whatever, but…” She trailed off, bringing a hand to Yasha’s cheek and guiding her to meet her gaze. Yasha complied and stopped cleaning, looking up at her through thick, dark lashes. “Fuck, I’ve got, like, no idea where I’m going with this… but, yeah, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

Yasha just stared at her, unblinking and unreadable as ever. The water had washed off most of the heavy, dark makeup around her eyes, leaving only a few faint, smudged streaks in its wake. Beau had never seen her look so clean, so unguarded, even. It was breathtaking.

“Obviously, I don’t want you to beat yourself up about this, but, uh, I get it. I just want you to know that I’m here. I’m here for you in all of this, Yash. Whatever shit you need to work through, whatever time you need, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

_ Because I love you. I love you enough to stay and do for you what no one fucking ever did for me.  _

Slowly, almost cautiously, Yasha closed her eyes and wrapped her massive, sturdy arms around Beau’s middle. She pressed her cheek against the firm muscle of Beau’s abdomen, trying to get as close to her as she could, still kneeling in the stream.

_ I know you’ll go away. You’ll go and you’ll leave me just like everyone else. Like my parents. Like Dairon. Like Molly.  _

Beau cradled her head in her arms, reciprocating the embrace as much as she could and felt Yasha press a gentle kiss just beneath her navel in response.

_ And you know what, Yasha? I love you enough to let you. _

“I know.” Yasha murmured. “I know, Beau, I know.”

Beau wanted to hold her there for hours, for days, for as long as she could and then for even longer. But she let Yasha pull away with another parting kiss against her skin and stayed silent as she finished washing the last of the blood off her thighs.

“There,” Yasha breathed. “Much better.”

Beau simply nodded.

Yasha pulled away and stood back up with a little stretch, returning to her regular six feet of height. 

“I think we should go back to the others now.” She said, wringing out the rag in an attempt to dry it as best she could. “They probably will want to get moving soon.”

Beau said nothing in reply. Rather, in an act of boldness, she stood on her toes, wrapped arms around Yasha’s neck, and dragged her into a messy, desperate kiss. 

She exhaled with an audible sob against Yasha’s lips as she kissed her back, with equal, albeit more restrained, ardor. She let Yasha lift her up and brought her legs around the woman’s waist without ever once breaking away. In that moment, there was absolutely nothing else in the realms that existed. It was Yasha hair tangled in her fingers and Yasha’s bare skin against her own. It was Yasha’s hands clutching onto her sides and tracing her ribcage and Yasha’s lips moving with hers in tandem.

It was in that moment of blissful weakness that Beau let herself ask the impossible.

“Stay,” she breathed into Yasha’s mouth, hot and wanting against her own. “Just, stay with me, please.”

She felt Yasha let out a pained groan from deep in her throat that reverberated between their lips and press their bodies impossibly closer.

“Please, Yasha,” Beau repeated, not noticing or caring about the way her voice cracked or how her tears dampened the other woman’s cheeks. “Don’t you fucking leave me.”

“Okay,” Yasha replied finally, her voice raspy and barely audible  “Okay.”

Beau kissed her again, as if the fervor behind it could in any way legitimize the empty promise that fooled neither of them. 

And Yasha let her, never once pulling away or setting her down. She captured every sob and moan with open, gasping lips and kept her hands steadfast and firm as she held her close, apologizing for past and future vacancies with her safe, steady embrace. 

When Beau finally dragged herself away, it was with a shaky, hollow, sigh as she let her body go limp in Yasha’s arms.

“I got you,” Yasha whispered, maneuvering her to carry her bridal style as she wadded back to the shore. “I got you, you’re alright.”

There was something undeniably comforting about being in Yasha’s embrace, about being held in those gentle yet massive arms as if she weighed absolutely nothing. In spite of herself, Beau felt her breathing slow and settle and her foggy, teary mind clear up the tiniest bit. Enough to be able to hold herself up as Yasha carefully set her down on the riverbank, at least.

“I, uh, sorry, about that.” Beau said, clearing her throat, as she ran a hand through her hair, slightly embarrassed at the display. “No idea what came over me there.”

“No problem.” Yasha reassured with a little shrug, handing Beau her clothes. “As long as you’re okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be good. Don’t worry.” Beau replied, waving away her concern. She busied herself with her clothing, throwing it on haphazardly without meeting Yasha’s eyes. “Let’s, uh, let’s get back before Jester tells everyone we’re fucking or something.”

“Beau,” Yasha began, her voice soft and sincere. “You can be sad, you know. About us. I’m not offended.”

“What?”

“I know that what we have is complicated. I… I get sad about it too, sometimes. It’s not… you’re not alone in this.”

Beau turned to face Yasha, taken aback by her sudden transparency. Yasha gave her a small, almost rueful smile as she finished lacing and fastening the last bits of her clothing.

“For a long time, I didn’t think I could ever have something like this.” She continued quietly. “This-- Everything about this is new to me. Waking up next to someone, having to say goodbye…” She trailed off and broke eye contact for a second, looking at the ground with a guilty expression. “And sometimes it’s hard for me. But you… you make it easy. And I just, I want you to know I care about you too.” 

“You care about me.” Beau repeated, somewhat vacantly as Yasha stepped forward to hold her hand. She knew Yasha cared for her, of course she did. She had shown it time and time again, in one way or another. But hearing those words of validation spoken aloud, so soft and perfect and genuine, went straight to her heart and made her go a little lightheaded.

“Very much so.” Yasha confirmed, squeezing her hand. “More than you know. More… more than I can say.”

Beau’s chest fluttered and tightened in a way she’d only ever thought existed between the pages of  _ Tusk Love _ .

“I… that means a lot.” She told her, looking into bright two-toned eyes with as much honestly and clarity as she thought possible. “It really does, Yash. And you know, I, uh, feel the same way.”

“I do. I do know.”

Beau fought the overwhelming urge to kiss her again. To lie on the riverbank under the warm morning sun, tangled up in each other's limbs, duties and debts and responsibilities be damned. To hold her, just for one moment more of a divinity that neither the Knowing Mistress nor the Stormlord could ever provide.

But, alas, the party was waiting.

“C’mon,” Beau said, tugging on her hand. “The sooner we hit the road, the sooner we get to a town, and the sooner you can show me all the reasons you love a good bathhouse.”

Yasha blushed a little bit, but played along, letting Beau drag her through the clearing, back to the brush lined path. “I’m afraid there’s not enough time in the day for me to show you all of them.”

Beau shot her a wolfish grin over her shoulder as they pair rounded the bend and returned to the campsite hand in hand, the scent of whatever bits of breakfast were left waiting for them wafting into the air. “All the more reason to get there as quickly as possible.”

Yasha gave a little laugh, soft and lovely as ever, and Beau afforded herself the tiniest bit of certainty that at least for now, at least in this moment, everything was going to be okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lot less explicit than part one, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @technicolortidepods, if you feel so inclined


End file.
